


Reconciliation

by AmberBrown



Series: Reading between the Lines [15]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberBrown/pseuds/AmberBrown
Summary: "A couple of swift punches to the face left him stunned and unable to fight back for several seconds. Those seconds were used by his attacker to change his position. Leaning forward the man pressed one hand over Aramis’ nose and mouth. By doing so he also put himself in Aramis’ vision for the first time. The shock of the sight of his attacker made Aramis forget for a fraction of a second that he was being smothered."Aramis is attacked by a man from his past, but the subsequent events prove even more deadly...
Relationships: Aramis/Porthos
Series: Reading between the Lines [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542634
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This references the previous story 'Visiting the Past' a fair bit, but you don't need to have read it. 
> 
> The story is finished, I will post a chapter or two a day.
> 
> Please note that the past sexual abuse is merely referenced, there are no details.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

One of the men looked around again, for the third time in a matter of minutes. The man, his face hidden by a big-brimmed hat, was wearing a cloak that hid his body. Weapons or stolen goods could be concealed under the loose cloak. The other man, the one that did not look nervous, was berating the first. 

‘You’ll draw attention to us,’ he hissed, accompanying the words with a slap to the first man’s shoulder. 

‘It’s too busy. We’ll get caught; we need to get off the road.’

The older man, who was clearly in charge, glanced around before pushing the first man into a side alleyway. They quickly disappeared into the gloom, their dark clothing helping to hide them. 

Aramis paused at the entrance of the alleyway. He gave the men a few seconds head start, he wanted them to think they were safe and not being followed. He knew the alleyway led to another market square. The Musketeer intended to follow the men to wherever their destination was. He suspected there was more to their odd behaviour than a simple theft. 

He had spotted them several minutes before as he chatted to a couple of street vendors about their wares. The younger man had brushed past him, the cloak catching slightly on the edge of the vendor's basket. The man had tugged his cloak back quickly and muttered under his breath before hurrying after the older man. 

Aramis, his curiosity piqued, had followed the two men close enough to hear their whispered conversation. The man that had looked around was not really paying attention to his surroundings, Aramis wondered what the man was looking for. He was missing the soldier a few yards away each time he looked around, which implied he was looking for something or someone very specific.

The alleyway was only wide enough for two men to walk abreast, the walls of the buildings pressed in around him as he ventured further from the road. The men were ahead of him, whispering to each other. The younger man sounded agitated. Aramis kept to the side of the alleyway making sure his steps did not echo alerting the men to his presence. The men stopped; Aramis could see them silhouetted against the light at the end of the alleyway. They were facing each other, the older one was pushing the nervous man against the wall with one hand as he wagged a finger with the other. Aramis chanced getting a bit closer to hear what was being said.

He regretted his choice almost immediately, as he stepped forward, he drew level with a recessed doorway, he made the mistake of not glancing into the dark doorway. The attack was quick, a strong arm wrapped around his neck before he could turn toward his assailant. Before he could hook his ankle around the attacker's leg, Aramis was forced to the side, knocking into the corner of the doorway before he was released. The air knocked out of him he stumbled to the ground, gasping, trying to take a decent breath and get to his feet at the same time. 

Aramis felt a fool for being tricked in such a way. The suspicious men were a distraction. They had bumped into him on purpose, drew his attention, acted as bait to lure him down the alleyway. And he had walked straight into it. 

Before he could pull himself up, he was grabbed again by his attacker and dragged to the middle of the rough ground between the buildings and pushed down. The force caused his head to knock into the ground hard enough to leave him reeling. Two kicks to the chest in quick succession left him struggling to breathe a second time. He tried reaching out an arm to push his attacker away, but his wrist was grabbed and pushed to the side forcing him onto his back. A couple of swift punches to the face left him stunned and unable to fight back for several seconds. 

Those seconds were used by his attacker to change his position, leaning forward, the man pressed one hand over Aramis’ nose and mouth. By doing so he also put himself in Aramis’ vision for the first time. The shock of the sight of his attacker made Aramis forget for a fraction of a second that he was being smothered. 

Aramis knew his attacker. The man that was attacking him was his half-brother.

Henri sneered as he saw the spark of recognition in Aramis’ eyes. He leaned over the struggling Musketeer using his larger build to keep Aramis pinned to the ground. 

As Aramis got over his shock, he started to fight back but knew it was already too late. He tried to take a breath, but no air entered his lungs, the meaty hand over his face squeezed. Aramis pulled at Henri’s wrist for several seconds before trying to reach up and scratch at the man’s face, aiming at his eyes. But Henri saw the move and twisted out of the way avoiding the attempt by his victim to fight back. Aramis tried to move his body away, to slip out from under his brother’s grasp. Henri leaned further over, using his heavier frame to his advantage again.

Aramis’ vision began to grey but Henri did not stop. Aramis hoped his brother would make the mistake of taking his hand away from his face too soon, not waiting long enough to ensure his victim was really dead. Aramis tried to play dead but the increasing need for air left it impossible. Aramis could no longer think straight. 

‘GET OFF HIM!’

The hand and the weight across him both disappeared at the same time. Henri looked down at Aramis as he tried to take a breath, Aramis stared back. Henri looked disappointed for a fleeting second before he ran away. 

Aramis continued to gasp for air, unable to even contemplate any other action at that moment.

MMMM

Athos turned his face to the bright sun. He closed his eyes for a few seconds enjoying the warmth. They had suffered a few days of cooler temperatures and some lengthy rainy spells. Patrolling in bad weather, although necessary, was never pleasant. Now that the weather had brightened up and the puddles were disappearing it was noticeable that the citizens' mood had also improved. The streets were busier which made them harder to patrol but Athos decided that was a small price to pay. 

‘What are you smiling about?’ asked Porthos as he turned back from a fruit stall with three  
apples in his hand.

Athos took one of the apples as Porthos slipped the third into his pocket.

‘I am allowed to enjoy the good weather, am I not?’ he asked before taking a bite of the sweet, tangy fruit.

Porthos chuckled, ‘yeah, it makes even the most stoically silent man happy,’ he said with a wink.

Athos shook his head and wandered away as Porthos gave the woman running the stall a coin for the apples.

‘What was Aramis’ errand about?’ asked Porthos as they wandered towards the corner of the market where they expected to meet their friend.

‘Just to drop off some plans to a couple of the other garrisons,’ said Athos. ‘The Captain would have sent one of the cadets but Aramis was early for muster so volunteered.’

Porthos laughed, ‘who wouldn’t volunteer on a day like today, not a cloud in the sky and it’s warm. Perfect for a stroll around the city.’

Athos smiled, it felt good to be able to relax and simply do their job. To protect the Royal family and the people of France. There were no specific threats at that moment, no attempts had been made on the life of the King in recent weeks. The respite was welcome.

‘Messieurs!’ 

A man, wearing an apron rushed up to them, he was breathing fast clutching at his chest as he calmed his breathing enough to talk to them. 

‘A soldier… being attacked…’ said the man vaguely pointing towards an alleyway. ‘My lad saw him following a couple of men… he followed them thinking he’d see an arrest… then he ran back and said someone had got the soldier on the ground…’

Athos looked at Porthos.

‘Aramis.’

They both spoke at the same time. They knew there were no other Musketeers patrolling that area and most of the other garrisons were busy in other parts of the city. 

They ran towards the alleyway, the narrowness forcing them to slow their pace as they turned into it. Athos was slightly ahead of Porthos as they moved into the narrower passageway. They did not have to go far to find what they were looking for. Despite not being able to see the two men clearly it was obvious that a broad-shouldered man was leaning over someone else who was trying to push the attacker away. How Aramis had come to be the man pinned to the floor evaded Athos, he could only conclude as he rushed forward that Aramis had been taken by surprise. They were none of them perfect, they all had momentary lapses in concentration.

‘GET OFF HIM!’

Porthos’ yell caused the attacker to look back at them, still shrouded in shadow they could not see what the man looked like. The man jumped to his feet and ran from them in the opposite direction. Knowing that Porthos would check on Aramis’ welfare, Athos charged after the attacker. The man’s footsteps echoed around the stone walls of the buildings, mixed with Athos’ own steps. The sound stopped as the man reached the end of the alleyway. The shadows were replaced by bright sunlight backlighting the man leaving his feature hidden. When Athos reached the end of the alleyway the man had already disappeared into the crowd of people milling around in the market. Athos looked around for several seconds trying to make out anyone moving away quicker than anyone else. No one drew his eyes. The attacker had disappeared. 

Athos scowled before turning back to retrace his steps. 

Porthos was crouched beside Aramis who was sat up. The Musketeer looked a little stunned and confused. His clothing was askew and streaked with mud where the recent rains had left the alleyway damp. The sun's rays had not been able to penetrate far enough to dry the ground. 

‘It was Henri,’ said Porthos, as Athos reached them.

‘Henri?’ repeated Athos with confusion. 

Aramis managed a nod, ‘totally… caught me… by surprise,’ he panted. ‘Tried to… smother me.’

Athos looked back along the alleyway.

‘What about the men you were following?’

‘Set up… I think… to distract me.’

‘Cheeky bastard,’ muttered Porthos.

‘Are you hurt?’ asked Athos as he crouched in front of his friend. 

What little light there was gave Aramis a slightly washed-out look, but the marks on his face were clear. 

‘Think he’s been kicked and hit his head,’ said Porthos before Aramis could answer. ‘His breathing ain’t great and it took him too long to regain his focus.’

‘I’m fi-’

‘Do not finish that sentence, Aramis, you ain’t fine and you can’t fool us into thinking you are.’

By way of demonstration, Porthos let go of Aramis’ shoulder without warning. Aramis wavered and tilted to the side without the support. Porthos grabbed him again before he toppled over causing Aramis to hiss. Athos raised an eyebrow at Porthos who shrugged, sometimes Aramis needed to be forced to understand that he was not well.

‘Shall we just be pleased it is not any worse?’ suggested Athos.

‘I thought he would have gone with my father,’ said Aramis who had admitted defeat and was no longer trying to pretend he had not nearly been killed.

‘Didn’t the Baron say your father had left in a hurry after your letter got to him?’ asked Porthos.

Aramis nodded, ‘yes they paid off the staff and packed up the same day. Gerard visited Jean after being told to leave by my father. Apparently, both my father and Henri were hastily packing.’

Athos thought back to the moment sat around the table at their rooms as Aramis had read out the letter from his childhood friend. The Baron had been keeping an eye on Aramis’ father and half-brother ever since Aramis had written to them to tell them that they knew it was Charles d’Herblay who had been trying to frame the Baron for treason. Aramis had made sure that Charles d’Herblay had a chance to escape arrest, despite not being a model father Aramis did not like the idea of seeing his parent brought to trial.

‘Why would Henri want to kill you?’ asked Porthos. ‘He wasn’t implicated in what your father did.’

Aramis, whose breathing had settled, replied, ‘perhaps he’s just annoyed that he’s had to move. He probably doesn’t know how to look after himself.’

Athos was pleased to see a slight smirk cross Aramis’ face as he thought about his childish half-brother.

‘Can I get up now?’ asked Aramis. ‘I promise I’ll behave and let you help me.’

With Athos on one side and Porthos on the other, they eased Aramis up to stand. He hissed a few times and needed a few moments to settle his breathing again once he was upright. When he wilted slightly in their arms Athos looked at Porthos who nodded, Aramis was trying to hide how much pain he was in, although not very well. 

‘Garrison or back to our place?’ asked Porthos. 

It took Aramis a few seconds to respond, his head was slightly bowed, and he had his eyes closed, the bang to the head obviously causing him more problems than he was letting on. 

‘Our rooms are closer,’ said Athos. ‘And it will be quieter.’

Porthos nodded before wrapping his arm around Aramis to keep him upright. They walked slowly, keeping to the quieter roads. Athos glared at anyone who got in their way, it was obvious Aramis was injured and some cocky young men probably would have taken advantage of the Musketeer if he was not with two of his friends. Two well-armed friends.

Athos wondered if the attempt on Aramis’ life was a one-off or if they had a new problem to deal with. Once Aramis was fit again, he would be perfectly capable of looking out for himself, but for a few days, they would have to watch him carefully. It was not uncommon for people to attack soldiers, they were used to it, but this was a more serious, concerted threat. Henri had probably been left frustrated that he had been humiliated during the farce of a duel he had taken part in with Aramis. Henri had also lost the only home he had ever known. The man did have a few things to be annoyed about, and Aramis had been the cause of them.

MMMM

The walk back to their rooms had been slow, with Aramis trying to walk normally. By the time Porthos had got his friend to the top of the stairs he was sure Aramis was leaning on him more than he had been at the start. Rather than improve as they walked Aramis had deteriorated. If he had hit his head Porthos guessed his friend was struggling to remain focused and probably had a pounding headache.

‘Are you alright to look after him?’ asked Athos, as Porthos helped Aramis towards their rooms. 

‘He is right here,’ said Aramis, although his words were a little slurred. 

Porthos grinned, ‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ he said before looking at Athos and nodding. 

‘I will tell Treville what has happened,’ said Athos. 

‘I’ll be fine in the morning,’ said Aramis quietly.

Porthos rolled his eyes and shook his head, ‘of course you will,’ he said, humouring his friend. 

Athos quietly let himself out as Porthos pushed their bedroom door open with his foot. He sat Aramis on the edge of the bed and looked at him for a few seconds. 

Aramis looked back at him, ‘I can remain upright for a few seconds, Porthos,’ he said.

Satisfied that Aramis meant what he had said, Porthos quickly pulled off his weapons belts and doublet. He hooked the belts and his doublet over the hook on the back of the door. He smiled to himself. They had been sharing a room, and a bed for a few months, it felt normal. They had gradually made the room their own. The two beds were pushed together but could be separated if they needed to be. Porthos had enjoyed watching Aramis settle into the routine of life with him. 

The three of them often worked together, patrolling or on guard duty. Athos, who was an enigma of his own, had become the perfect man to round out their group. 

Porthos gathered a bowl, which he filled with water, and a few cloths and grabbed Aramis’ medical bag. When he returned to the bedroom, he set the water down and returned his attention to Aramis. His friend was trying to pull his weapons belts off, but not succeeding very well. His uncoordinated movements might have been comical if Aramis was merely suffering from the effect of too much alcohol, but under the circumstances, Porthos was not amused. 

Porthos gently stilled Aramis’ hands. Aramis looked at him, his lack of focus concerning. Porthos slowly pulled the weapons off and began to undo Aramis' doublet. 

‘We need to stop having to do this for each other,’ said Porthos as he eased the jacket over Aramis’ shoulders. 

He took his time in deference to Aramis’ injuries. After pulling Aramis’ boots off him, he helped him out of his shirt. Aramis was left very unsteady by the assorted movements, Porthos had to hold him steady for several seconds. He took the opportunity to look at the injuries Aramis had received. It was obvious he had been kicked a few times as bruises were forming across his friend’s chest. Porthos gently felt along Aramis’ ribs.

‘Nothin’ broken,’ he concluded. 

Aramis nodded, ‘he smacked me into the wall, knocked me to the ground… then tried to smother me… that’s why I took a while to get my breathing right.’

‘Bet you feel a right idiot getting caught out like that,’ said Porthos with a smile. 

Aramis managed a nod and smile in return.

‘I thought,’ said Aramis, as Porthos dampened one of the cloths and wrung it out, ‘that I’d seen the last of him…’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Porthos, ‘it was a bit of a shock when you told me who it was.’

Aramis allowed him to clean off the dirt from his face where he had been left with a few grazes.

‘It’s really not that bad, just bruises,’ said Aramis.

Porthos looked at Aramis, ‘but it could have been a lot worse. He was trying to kill you…’

‘And probably would have succeeded if you hadn’t come along when you did. He’d left me with little fight left in me.’

Porthos nodded, reminded of the horrible sight that had greeted him and Athos as they reached the scene of the attack. Henri had been pinning his friend to the ground. Aramis had been weakly trying to push the heavier man off him. Once Henri had run off Aramis had been very still for a couple of seconds causing Porthos to fear the worst, before his friend had started to make very uncoordinated movements as if he was still trying to push his attacker away. 

Aramis wavered again, his eyes closing for a few seconds. Porthos pushed him to lie on the bed, Aramis did not complain. As Porthos undid and eased off Aramis' breeches and underclothes his friend barely reacted. He had not passed out but was clearly not far off. Porthos covered Aramis in a couple of blankets before clearing away the bowl of now murky water. When he returned Aramis was watching him with hooded eyes.

‘Do you want one of your foul-tasting painkillers?’ asked Porthos. 

‘No,’ said Aramis quietly, ‘don’t want to move again.’

Porthos could understand. He found one of the little wraps of herbs that Aramis kept prepared in his medical bag and put it on the small table by the bed next to a jug of water and a cup. Porthos knew Aramis would probably be grateful for the painkiller when he woke.

After pulling the shutter across the small window, he stretched out on the bed next to Aramis. He was unsure how much contact Aramis might want; he contented himself with just laying his hand on Aramis’ chest. Aramis rested his own hand on Porthos’. 

‘You know you’re going to have to be careful for a few days,’ said Porthos, wondering if Aramis would even hear him.

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Aramis.

‘You won’t be able to properly defend yourself for a couple of days. We’re going to have to stay with you… at least until you can look after yourself-’

Aramis shifted slightly, breaking their contact. Porthos sighed, he shifted closer and gently draped his arm across his friend.

‘I care about you,’ Porthos said calmly, ‘and I will be looking out for you until you can look out for yourself.’

Aramis did not respond for a few seconds, Porthos wondered if he had fallen asleep. 

‘Thank you,’ Aramis said finally, his words a little slurred. 

‘Rest,’ said Porthos. ‘We’ll sort this out.’

Porthos listened intently as Aramis finally succumbed to the sleep that had been threatening him for some time. As Aramis’ breathing settled Porthos wondered if there would be any further issues with Henri to come. The attempt on Aramis’ life had been real. His friend was very lucky not to have been killed. Would Henri be satisfied with simply causing his half-brother harm or would he take another chance at killing Aramis?

MMMM

The pounding in his head seemed to lessen if he kept still. He knew he would feel better after he had slept. The comfort of having Porthos next to him would help to speed up his recovery he was sure. He had been a little annoyed when his friend had told him he would need to be watched for a couple of days. 

Guarded, protected.

Aramis hated the idea that he was incapable of looking after himself. Although at that precise moment he certainly could not protect himself. He doubted he would be able to move quickly enough to do anything to save himself. 

The attack had left him shocked and confused. He really had thought that chapter of his life had been closed, that he would never see any member of his family again. 

He had known for some years that the Musketeers were his family. 

His father had always resented him, and Henri had outright disliked him. They had never got along.

But for Henri to try to kill him. 

That was more than Aramis could have expected. After their duel, Aramis was convinced that Henri would be satisfied. He had won the duel after all, even if he had needed to cheat in order to hit Aramis first. Perhaps when he and his friends had stood up to him the humiliation of needing to cheat in order to win had caught up with Henri. Perhaps, thought Aramis, he should not have goaded the man as much as he had done. But it had felt good at the time. 

Now Henri was out there, somewhere in the city, perhaps plotting the next attempt on his life. 

Much as he did not want to be protected, Aramis had to see sense and accept that he would be watched for a couple of days. 

He could hear Porthos’ settled breathing next to him. His friend had probably intended to stay awake, but the dim light in the room and the calm after the shock of the attack meant that Porthos had fallen asleep. 

Aramis knew his friend would be alert in a second. He knew he would be looked after, watched over, protected. Until he was fit again. 

And despite it not being a particularly manly thought, Aramis quite liked the idea of being looked after by his friend. He was a soldier, he was supposed to be tough, able to deal with all and everything that was thrown at him, but sometimes it was good to be able to allow others to do that on his behalf.


	2. Chapter 2

The garrison yard was busy with various activities. A group of cadets were being harassed by Serge as they cleaned the large pots and pans from the mess. A couple of men were checking a fresh consignment of muskets outside the armoury, the man who had delivered them looked annoyed that he was being kept waiting as the Musketeers insisted on checking each box before they called the Captain over to deal with the payment. 

The Captain had only been in the garrison for a few minutes, he had returned from the Palace and was busy removing the tack from his horse as Athos approached him. Athos did not particularly like recounting the morning’s incident. He told the Captain everything, concluding with their uncomfortable walk back to their rooms. 

As the Captain had listened, he had begun brushing down his horse with calm even strokes. The horse nodding his head every so often with the occasional snort of contentment. Athos waited whilst the Captain finished his work, he slapped the horse on his flank a couple of times before passing the brush to a waiting stable boy. 

Skirting around the cadets being trained they reached a barrel of fresh water, Treville picked up a cup from a small table next to the barrel and filled it. Athos waited patiently as Treville drank.

‘I always say I’m interested in the man and not their background when I take on a cadet,’ he said. ‘And I still hold with that. Aramis is one of my finest Musketeers, I knew he had a somewhat troubled upbringing. It is a shame that his adulthood is now being affected by it.’

Athos nodded.

‘Do you believe it was a concerted effort by his half-brother to kill him?’

Athos nodded again, ‘if we had not turned up when we did, he would have succeeded.’

Treville sighed, ‘I feel sorry for him. He’s not long recovered from the horrors of Savoy and now this. He’s certainly had an unlucky few months.’

‘Porthos is watching him for now. We could bring him back here, but the noise of the training would not have helped him with his recovery.’

Treville shook his head, ‘no you did the right thing, a few hours peace will be better for him and I would not have wanted him left on his own even here. I’m sure he’s already complaining about being looked after?’

Athos smiled, ‘I think he knows he needs someone with him but is too proud to admit it.’

‘Aren’t we all under those circumstances?’

They stood in silence for a few minutes watching the cadets being put through their paces by Corentin and Gilbert, two Musketeers with many years of experience between them. A few of the cadets were standing by the horses observing. Athos could tell a couple of the lads were not really paying attention, he made a mental note to see that they got a couple of extra guard duties to remind them to pay attention. Hubert and Marin were good cadets but easily distracted.

Treville chuckled, ‘you’ve spotted them as well,’ he said quietly so that the cadets could not hear him. ‘Sometimes the better ones are the hardest to keep engaged. They remind me of you three.’

Athos glanced at Treville who was smiling knowingly. 

‘If you and Porthos are content to be Aramis’ keepers for the next couple of days I’ll make sure you can be spared. Once he’s back on duty I’ll make sure he’s not alone on patrol. Although I doubt he’ll be letting his guard down or getting distracted so easily again for a while.’

Athos was inclined to agree. Aramis had been caught out once and would not let it happen again. At least now he knew there was a threat he could watch out for it. Athos also knew that Porthos would be watchful of his friend as well. 

‘Hubert,’ called Treville, beckoning the young man towards him.

Hubert was a tall cadet, the same height as Athos but wiry in comparison. Athos had always been impressed with his ability to fight and stand his ground despite his slight frame. 

‘As you don’t seem too interested in learning what Corentin is teaching you - don’t speak - you can take over on the gate for an hour and let Christophe get a meal.’

Hubert muttered an apology and wandered towards the gate. Athos watched him go with a glance towards Marin who was watching with interest.

‘We’ll also check any visitors here,’ said Treville, ‘just in case Henri is stupid enough to think he can walk in.’

Athos hoped nothing further would happen but somehow, he doubted it. 

MMMM

_A couple of days later… ___

__‘Porthos,’ said Aramis with a chuckle, ‘I will be fine for a couple of hours. Go and get some fresh air. Visit your horse. Check in with Treville. Anything. But please go away for a bit.’_ _

__Aramis glared at Porthos who was trying to look upset but failing. His friend had been there for him almost constantly for two days. Supporting him when his thumping headache got too much for him, making him drink the painkiller and waking him from a couple of vivid dreams._ _

__Aramis had been grateful, grateful for the company and contact. He probably could have gone to the infirmary at the garrison and relieved Porthos of his nursing duties, but the thought of the clashing swords and musket fire had made his head throb even more. His headache had gradually subsided and he was able to walk about without stopping every few steps in the hope that his swirling vision would clear up._ _

__‘You’re a rubbish patient,’ said Porthos with a smile after giving up on trying to be annoyed._ _

__‘I’m not going to go anywhere. I will sit here and wait for you to return and continue to act as my servant.’_ _

__Porthos, who had wandered into their bedroom to collect his doublet and weapons belt laughed, ‘yeah, don’t get used to that,’ he said._ _

__He leaned over Aramis who looked up at him, a brief kiss all Porthos allowed his friend. Aramis pretended to be disappointed._ _

__‘You’re not fit for anything else yet,’ admonished Porthos with a smirk. ‘You can thank me properly once you can move about without hissing in pain all the time. That would be a bit off-putting.’_ _

__Aramis rolled his eyes, ‘well I wouldn’t want to put you off,’ he said sarcastically._ _

__Porthos smiled at him, his eyes twinkling at the thought of what they might do together. It had been a few days since they had enjoyed some time together alone. Aramis had been in no state to do anything of a sexual nature with Porthos whilst he recovered. He had been content with his friend sleeping next to him, his arms wrapped around him protectively._ _

__Aramis was itching to get back to work but knew he was still too bruised to accomplish much. It had taken quite a lot of effort to dress and move to the sitting room that morning. His headache had faded completely but his other injuries were still causing him to move slowly and stiffly. Aramis knew that he could not rush back to work, he would only suffer more._ _

__He watched Porthos give his weapons a final check and place his hat on his head with a grin at him._ _

__‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ he said as he reached for the door handle._ _

__‘There is little that you wouldn’t do, my friend,’ replied Aramis with a smile._ _

__Porthos closed the door behind him, Aramis could hear his friend descend the stairs and the outside door opened and closed._ _

__Finally, alone Aramis sighed. He knew it would only be for a couple of hours, but he was pleased his friend was getting a bit of time away from him. Athos had taken over for a while the previous day but Porthos had not gone far that time. The three of them had agreed that they would try to stick together for the next few days just to be on the safe side. Aramis knew it made sense. The attempt on his life could not be taken lightly. When he returned to light duties the next day he wondered if the extra vigilance he knew he would have about his surroundings would be draining. They were all vigilant anyway, but with a known threat their attention to their surroundings would be heightened. Aramis would only have to walk from their rooms to the garrison the following morning and he knew that Porthos would be with him, so the extra attention would be shared, but it was still a slight concern._ _

__Aramis wondered if he was worrying too much. Henri might have been scared off after being caught in the act the first time. His half-brother might have already fled the city. They might have been taking precautions for nothing._ _

__He reached out for the book he had been reading which Porthos had helpfully left just out of his reach on the other side of the table by the chair he was sitting in. The pain the extra stretch caused served to remind Aramis that he was not as fit as he liked to think. In some circumstances ignoring pain was the only thing they could do. In the midst of battle, most smaller injuries would be left until it was safe to deal with them away from any fighting. It was almost a luxury to be given the time to properly recover from the attack he had suffered. Although Aramis was sure it was more painful than if he had taken a beating on the battlefield._ _

__He settled back with his book and began to read._ _

__He opened his eyes. One of the perils of recovering from injury was that falling asleep was sometimes too easy. Aramis was sure he had managed to read a couple of pages before he had nodded off._ _

__A couple of knocks at the door reminded Aramis why he had been disturbed from his sleep. He put his book down and eased himself out of his chair. The unexpected stillness had left him stiff again. After briefly stretching his back Aramis walked to the door. The money bag with the rent was resting on the shelf by the door, they had been expecting the landlord to ask for his money over the last couple of days. Aramis wondered if he had waited knowing that one of his tenants was injured. The kind older man seemed to relish having three soldiers living in the rooms he rented out._ _

__Aramis pulled the door open with a smile. The smile faltered quickly when he saw who was actually on the other side._ _

__Henri was grinning at him, a gun aimed squarely at his chest._ _

__MMMM_ _

__The moment of shocked stunned inaction from Aramis was enough for Henri to get control of the situation. He shoved Aramis back hard. Aramis stumbled before falling to the floor, he ended up leaning against the chair, he stared up at Henri who had stepped into the room and closed the door. The sudden movement had left Aramis struggling to control his breathing as his assorted bruises screamed. His chest, where he had been kicked, felt tight and his hip and knee where he had fallen during the first attack had been agitated, sending out waves of pain._ _

__‘Did that hurt, brother?’ asked Henri._ _

__‘Why?’ Aramis managed to say._ _

__Henri pulled out one of the chairs from under the table and sat down keeping his gun trained on Aramis the whole time. His brother grinned as he watched Aramis trying to control his breathing and ride out the pain the new assault had caused him._ _

__‘Why did I try to kill you?’ asked Henri._ _

__Dressed in the most fashionable clothing, Henri cut a dashing figure. The man was broad-shouldered but carried it off well thanks to the well-made doublet that he wore. Henri had taken advantage of the city's tailors to buy himself the best clothing he could afford. Henri wanted to show his half-brother one final time that he was better than him._ _

__Before Henri killed Aramis._ _

__‘I tried to kill you because I hate you. You’ve ruined my life. If you hadn’t interfered, I wouldn’t have had to move from the home I grew up in. You were ungrateful when we took you in and now you’ve messed up my life.’_ _

__Aramis could tell Henri had rehearsed what he had said. The man had probably been planning it since he had been disturbed during his first murderous attack. He knew Henri and his father had left their home a couple of weeks before. Aramis wondered if Henri had travelled directly to Paris to get his revenge. He wondered if his father was there as well._ _

__‘If our father hadn’t been trying to frame Jean for treason we wouldn’t have needed to interfere,’ said Aramis. 'I couldn't see an innocent man arrested.'_ _

__He surreptitiously glanced around trying to work out if there was anything to hand that he could use to defend himself. His weapons were hanging on the back of the bedroom door. They had few belongings between the three of them and nothing within Aramis’ reach that could be used to fight back against Henri. From his current position Aramis knew he was very much at a disadvantage, he was still sitting awkwardly on the floor, looking up at Henri. Aramis knew that if he moved too much he would cause himself pain and he did not want to show any more weakness in front of his half-brother._ _

__'My father didn't have to take you in. He could have left you there seeing to the needs of the men who liked little boys…'_ _

__Aramis looked away, there were some things from his childhood that always struck a chord in him. Things he wished he could forget. Henri pressed his advantage._ _

__'...my father took you in out of the goodness of his heart. You'd have been dead by now otherwise. He saves your life and you've never shown any gratitude. Your mother didn't want you. He told me she was glad to be rid of you; you were a distraction…'_ _

__Aramis knew what Henri was saying was not true._ _

__'And then you got that tart pregnant. You're pathetic.'_ _

__Henri paused, a cruel grin playing across his face. He seemed very satisfied with his diatribe._ _

__'I'm sorry that you are angry,' said Aramis calmly. 'But your anger is directed at the wrong person-'_ _

__'Who should it be directed at then?'_ _

__'Him.'_ _

__'My father?'_ _

__'Our father,' Aramis reminded his brother. 'He was paying for sex before your mother died.'_ _

__Henri opened his mouth to respond but could not find anything to say._ _

__Aramis continued, 'he saw a few women over a couple of years before settling on my mother. Then he paid to keep her for himself. Our father was no better than any of the other visitors to that place. When I was old enough to understand some of the other women there told me the sorts of things he did. Not normal-'_ _

__'You're lying,' spat Henri._ _

__Aramis shook his head, 'why would I lie?'_ _

__Henri stood up and took a couple of paces towards him, the gun aimed at him. Aramis looked beyond the gun, into his brother's eyes._ _

__'Henri, you are just as much a victim of him as I was. If he cared about you he'd have found another wife to help raise you. He was wealthy enough and young enough to have still found a woman from a good background.'_ _

__The gun started to waver a little._ _

__'Instead, our father continued to visit my mother who was effectively his paid mistress. Your inheritance was being used to pay for her. It wasn't cheap keeping her exclusively for him.'_ _

__The gun was lowered slightly._ _

__'But you were-'_ _

__'I was taken from the only life I knew… I was forced to leave my mother… and I was not exactly welcomed… are you surprised that I wasn't grateful?'_ _

__Henri took a couple of steps back and sat in a chair by the table, he put the gun on the table. He stared into the distance thinking through what Aramis had said. Aramis wondered if Henri had not really thought it through before. Not really considered what his father had been doing whilst his mother was dying and afterwards when he should have been grieving._ _

__Henri had been too young to understand at the time and would have only known the version of events that their father had told him. Aramis could sympathise with the man, although he knew he could never love his half-brother._ _

__Aramis wondered if he could chance moving. He knew he would not be able to move with his usual poise, but he was quite uncomfortable sitting on the floor. He hoped he had at least gained a stay of execution now that Henri was no longer aiming his gun at him. His brother was still staring into the distance._ _

__'You were disrespectful to us,' said Henri after a couple of minutes. 'You spent all your time with the de Foix boy...'_ _

__Aramis sighed, he realised he had a bit more work to do to talk Henri around. He hoped his brother would give him the chance._ _

__'I spent my time with Jean because he and his father were kind to me, they welcomed me...'_ _

__Henri's hand was resting on the table, his fingertips stroking the butt of the gun. Aramis wondered if Henri needed to remind himself that he was armed against the trained soldier, despite the state Aramis was in._ _

__'Why did you leave like you did?' asked Henri, looking at him for the first time in several minutes. 'It had all settled down. She'd lost the child and been taken away from your temptation...'_ _

__'You know why I left,' said Aramis._ _

__'I want you to tell me.'_ _

__'I loved Isabelle. I would have married her...'_ _

__Henri looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Aramis could not read his brother's expression, but something seemed to have changed._ _

__'I suppose we were... perhaps, a little harsh on you. You were, perhaps, innocent. You were forced to live with us. Father did have to lock you up for several weeks to stop you running off...'_ _

__Aramis could not hide his confusion._ _

__Henri frowned, 'you don't remember that do you? You cried and shouted and screamed almost constantly. I'd not wanted you around to start with and hated you after that. You'd drawn the attention of my father away.'_ _

__Aramis had no recollection of being locked away. The first memory he had of living with his father and Henri was being hit several times by his father as Henri looked on laughing._ _

__'You should get up,' said Henri. 'You don't look comfortable.'_ _

__'You tried to kill me a couple of days ago... I've not recovered yet....'_ _

__Henri smirked, 'I was actually surprised to get you on the ground so easily. You were so focused on those two men I'd paid to distract you.'_ _

__Aramis slowly and painfully pulled himself up to the chair, he watched his brother carefully as he moved. Henri did nothing to help him, probably not wanting to get closer even though Aramis was in no state to fight back._ _

__The flecks of grey hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes seemed to show how Henri had aged badly, despite his well-fitting clothes. Aramis wondered why he had never married, perhaps no woman would have him. His obnoxious attitude towards his own brother was a good indicator of what he might have been like towards any potential brides._ _

__Henri was looking around the room, he spotted a couple of bottles of wine on the table. He reached out to pick one up._ _

__'If we are to continue to reconcile, we should have a drink together.'_ _

__He lifted the bottle, realised it was empty, before looking back to Aramis._ _

__'Soldiers aren't paid well,' Henri remarked. 'I'll buy us a bottle to share.'_ _

__Aramis could not hide his surprise._ _

__'Reconcile?' he said._ _

__'I'm not saying I want to be your friend, but I think we should try to clear the air.'_ _

__Henri looked around the room for a few seconds, his eyes lingering on the closed doors leading to the bedrooms._ _

__'Who do you live with?'_ _

__'Two other Musketeers. You met them.'_ _

__Aramis noted a slight look of derision from Henri. He remembered Henri being dismissive of Porthos and Athos during the meal at his father's house._ _

__'Where are they?'_ _

__'At the garrison.'_ _

__Aramis did not see the need to tell Henri that Porthos was due to return in a couple of hours. Aramis was not sure of his brother's intent if Henri did return with a bottle of wine Aramis would have time to arm himself but still would not mind having someone with him. Even he was prepared to admit that he was not fully fit and being alone with the man that had tried to kill him was not something Aramis was enjoying. Even if Henri wanted to reconcile._ _

__Henri rose from the chair, picking up the gun at the same time. He wandered to the window and peered out._ _

__'Where can I buy a good bottle of wine?'_ _

__When Aramis did not respond straight away Henri turned to look at him._ _

__'I want to talk; you've made me want to reconsider my views of you.'_ _

__Aramis was unsure about his brother's change of attitude but wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. The change of heart felt odd. Had Aramis really got through to the man? Somehow, he doubted it but he decided he owed the man the chance to make his peace._ _

__'There's a good shop a few doors away. To the left and across the road at the corner.'_ _

__Henri looked back out of the window. He spotted the shop and nodded._ _

__'I won't be long.'_ _

__Aramis watched his brother go, still stunned at the turn of events._ _

__MMMM_ _

__After Henri had left, Aramis eased himself up to stand, he moved to the window and peered out. He watched his brother cross the road and walk towards the wine sellers’ shop. Aramis still could not quite believe what was happening. He had half expected Henri to simply walk away. As Henri stepped into the wine shop Aramis turned away from the window. He contemplated leaving and walking to the garrison, but at the same time, he wanted to know what Henri had to say. He knew Porthos would return, probably within the hour, he would not be alone with Henri for long._ _

__To be on the safe side, Aramis retrieved one of the smaller pistols that he owned, he would be able to conceal it close enough to his chair to be able to grab it if Henri's intentions were not as they seemed. Knowing that he had some protection meant he could relax a little, although Aramis had no intention of letting his guard down around a man who had tried to kill him._ _

__Aramis took the chance to move about as much as possible to ease his stiffened muscles. The bruises to his knee and hip, which had not bothered him much initially were starting to throb. Being sat on the floor for several minutes in an awkward position had not helped him. He knew he would not be able to hide the fact that he was impaired by his injuries, but Henri had been the cause of them so there was not much point trying to hide them._ _

__Steps on the stairs indicated his brother's return. Aramis opened the door. Henri held up the bottle with a smile. Aramis glanced at the label realising it was an expensive wine, one that he knew Athos would have approved of. Was Henri making a point that he was wealthy, and Aramis was not?_ _

__‘I’ll get us some glasses,’ said Aramis, who wanted to at least pretend he approved of Henri’s change of attitude._ _

__The atmosphere was odd, they were both dancing around an awkward subject. Henri had not mentioned where their father was. Aramis found it hard to believe that Henri, a man who had never lived away from his father had made the decision on his own to travel to Paris. At the back of his mind, Aramis kept wondering if his abusive father was somehow behind the attempt on his life and even Henri’s change of heart. Had it all been set up to lull him into a false sense of security. Or was Aramis just reading too much into it? Finding issues where there were none. Had he got through to Henri? Was his turnaround genuine?_ _

__‘Where is our father?’ Aramis asked, finally deciding that he needed to know the answer._ _

__‘I don’t know,’ replied Henri._ _

__Aramis was convinced the man was not lying._ _

__Henri set the bottle on the table, near the empty bottle he had picked up before, and began to undo his expensive doublet, carefully unbuttoning each silver button. Aramis had not noticed the elaborate embroidery on the jacket earlier. His brother really was making the most of his time in Paris. Perhaps the man was discovering that he too had been subtly oppressed by their father. Henri was finally free of the man and able to express himself._ _

__‘When your letter arrived, he packed up pretty quickly. He wanted me to go with him, but I told him I would follow in a few days' time, that I wanted to see that the horses were sold for a decent amount,’ said Henri._ _

__Aramis nodded for him to continue as he hobbled about collecting glasses, his movements were slow. He knew there was no point hiding the pain he was in._ _

__‘He doesn’t know I’m here. Doesn’t know I came here to kill you... Which was my intent,’ admitted Henri._ _

__As his brother confessed Aramis turned sharply, shocked at the candid nature of his words. As he turned, he knocked his badly bruised knee against the table. Pain shot through him, Aramis could not help leaning forward, clutching at the edge of the table to stop himself from falling, one of the glasses tipped up and fell off the table, smashing as it hit the floor._ _

__Henri was quick to grab him, initially, Aramis was shocked at the move but quickly realised the man was merely helping him. He tried to take a step, but the pain caused him to have to suppress a yelp. He screwed his eyes shut._ _

__The last thing he expected to hear at that moment was a gunshot._ _


	3. Chapter 3

_A few minutes earlier… ___

__Porthos could not help smiling as he walked towards the garrison. Aramis was on the mend and the sun was beating down on Paris, a gentle breeze taking the edge off the heat. He knew Aramis would need to be careful for a few days. He would have to be vigilant in case his half-brother decided to have another go at hurting him, and he would have to take it easy due to the injuries he had received. The bruises were quite impressive. His friend had not really noticed the ones to his leg initially but as they had come out over the two days since the attack Aramis had been left walking with a stiff shuffling gait._ _

__With a chuckle, Porthos wondered how long it would take Aramis to walk to the garrison the following morning when he intended to start work again. Sobering slightly as he contemplated how the injuries would make Aramis an easier target Porthos wandered into the garrison yard._ _

__Apart from a brief visit to get some herbs to make up another painkiller, Porthos had not been to the garrison since Aramis had been attacked. Despite wishing to keep an eye on his friend it was good to be back. The noise and the smell, the general atmosphere made him feel alive._ _

__He reached the table at the bottom of the steps. Serge had left some plates of food, water, and wine for the cadets. Porthos picked at a piece of meat and poured himself a cup of water. He watched Hubert making practice thrusts and parries as he chewed his purloined food. The promising cadet was making a concerted effort to get his footwork correct. Porthos well remembered the feeling of the lack of coordination he had when he had been learning the proper way to wield a sword. He smiled at the memory._ _

__Hubert glanced across to him and stopped his work, he wandered over, slipping his sword into his belt as he walked, the tall cadet had a slightly self-conscious manner about him. Porthos wondered if he might gain in confidence as he bulked out a bit with his training and the better food they enjoyed in the garrison._ _

__‘Did the man find your rooms?’_ _

__Porthos shook his head not understanding._ _

__‘The man, he wanted to know where you lived. Well not you, Aramis.’_ _

__Porthos put down his cup, ‘what man?’_ _

__‘I was on gate duty about an hour ago. He came up to me and asked if he could see Aramis.’_ _

__Porthos tried not to reach any hasty conclusions._ _

__‘What did the man look like?’_ _

__‘Bit older than Aramis. Tall, broad-shouldered. He had a fancy doublet. You’d have liked it,’ Hubert smirked._ _

__Aramis quite often teased Porthos in front of the cadets about his fondness for fine clothes, even though he could neither afford them nor use them in his life as a soldier. Porthos usually took the teasing good-naturedly, giving as good as he got. But he was not amused at that moment._ _

__‘And you told this man what?’_ _

__Hubert started to look a little worried, ‘I told him that Aramis was in his rooms… I told the man where you live…’_ _

__Porthos stared at the cadet who looked as though he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. The other Musketeers and cadets knew that Aramis had been injured and was taking a couple of days to convalesce away from the noise of the garrison. The other men had not been told how or why Aramis had been attacked. Porthos knew Hubert had no reason not to tell the stranger where Aramis was. The men had been told to report any unusual visitors, Porthos guessed the well-dressed stranger had not seemed suspicious to Hubert who was still young and naive about the ways of the world._ _

__‘Find Athos,’ said Porthos, ‘tell him Henri knows where Aramis is.’_ _

__Hubert stared at Porthos._ _

__‘Now! Hubert, go!’_ _

__The cadet nodded and ran in the direction of the firing range. Porthos turned towards the gate, breaking into a run as he went. He had not returned to the garrison directly from their rooms, deciding to take a circuitous route to enjoy the weather and the fresh air. If he had walked directly, he might have passed Henri on the way and recognised him._ _

__Porthos cursed himself for leaving his friend alone. Aramis was in no state to defend himself. He might have pretended he was fine, but Aramis was still in a lot of discomfort. He would be slow, due to the bruising, and stiff from inactivity. Aramis was vulnerable and he had left him alone._ _

__People moved out of his way muttering at him, a couple of dogs barked and scampered along with him for a few yards, some young boys jeered and shouted. Porthos ignored them all. He only had one purpose at that moment._ _

__To get back to Aramis._ _

__He turned into the road where their rooms were, he slowed to a quick walk, giving himself a few seconds to get his breath back after charging through the streets. He used the few seconds it took him to reach the door to the house to check his weapons. He pulled his gun, checking it was primed. He hoped he would find Aramis still sitting in the chair. He hoped he would find his friend in good humour and ready with teasing remarks about his worry._ _

__Porthos climbed the stairs carefully, quietly. If Henri was there, Porthos did not want to lose his element of surprise. He reached the door and paused, listening intently._ _

__He could hear voices, Aramis and Henri. Porthos remembered the man’s tone from when they visited him before. Porthos could not make out what was being said. He slowly turned the handle on the door. He knew the hinges were well oiled, he knew there would be no sound. He managed to push the door open a crack and peered in. He did not have a view of the whole room, but he could see Henri, standing with his back to the door. Aramis was probably in front of Henri._ _

__Something that sounded like a sharp intake of breath or a gasp of pain and the sound of a glass smashing had Porthos pushing the door fully open. At the same moment, Henri stepped forward and reached out, his movements quick and aggressive._ _

__Porthos raised his gun._ _

__When Aramis yelped in pain Porthos fired the gun._ _

__MMMM_ _

__With the gunshot still ringing in his ears, Aramis collapsed to the floor under the weight of Henri. His brother landed hard, sprawled across him. A rush of energy gave Aramis the strength to shift onto his back. Henri was weakly trying to move. Aramis was surprised when Henri was dragged off him._ _

__Aramis looked up to find the concerned face of Porthos looking down at him. It only took Aramis a second to spot the still smoking gun in Porthos’ hand. Porthos reached out to him. Aramis stared back, unable to make sense of what had just happened._ _

__‘Are you alright?’ Porthos asked._ _

__Aramis continued to stare at Porthos for a couple of seconds before a moan drew his attention away._ _

__Henri was lying on his side, his eyes were barely open, but his expression was one of pain and shock. His hand was pressed to his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. Aramis reached out and instinctively felt the back of Henri’s right shoulder finding the entrance wound from the shot. Henri coughed, blood spattering his lips and the floor._ _

__‘Aramis?’ came Porthos’ voice above him._ _

__‘What did you do?’ said Aramis looking up at Porthos again._ _

__Porthos’ expression had turned to one of confusion. Aramis went back to looking at Henri, who had somehow rallied himself enough to look up at him, his eyes dimming as he did so._ _

__‘No,’ said Aramis. ‘Henri?’_ _

__He moved, pushing away the pain of his bruises to pull Henri onto his back, resting his brother's head on his lap, pressing his hand over Henri’s, covering the wound._ _

__Aramis already knew there was no hope for his brother. Henri was dying. The older man was looking up at him with eyes that were gradually losing their focus._ _

__Henri was speaking, his lips were moving but no sound was coming from them. Aramis leaned forward and tried to hear what the man was saying. He caught nothing more than the word; ‘sorry’._ _

__Aramis shook his head in disbelief. He pressed harder on the wound, even though he knew he was only pressing on the exit wound, the entrance wound was still bleeding, he could feel his brother's blood soaking into the leather of his breeches._ _

__‘He was attacking you…’_ _

__‘He was helping me,’ said Aramis quietly._ _

__Porthos did not say anything. Aramis did not look up again, his focus solely on Henri who was blinking slowly, a tear formed in his eye and slipped over his cheek. Aramis wiped it away. He leaned forward and kissed his brother on the forehead, trying not to let his own tears fall._ _

__The last spark of life left Henri’s eyes. The sheen of death settled over his face. Aramis just stared at him._ _

__Henri was dead._ _

__Shot by Porthos._ _

__Aramis was aware of Porthos moving to crouch in front of him, aware of a hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. Aramis shifted away; he did not want Porthos’ touch. Did not want the contact with the man that had just killed his brother._ _

__‘He came to talk; he came to reconcile with me… and you shot him.’_ _

__‘Aramis-’_ _

__Porthos stopped whatever he was about to say when Aramis looked up at him sharply. Porthos looked taken aback by Aramis’ expression. All Aramis could think of at that moment was that Porthos had killed his brother. Henri might have had a different attitude before he found out what their father was really like. But he had quickly accepted that Charles d’Herblay was a bad man. Henri was ready to change._ _

__Porthos had taken that chance away._ _

__‘Leave me alone.’_ _

__‘Aramis-’_ _

__‘I said leave me alone!’_ _

__Aramis had almost shouted at Porthos. Porthos recoiled, probably unused to seeing Aramis angry with him. How could the man not expect him to be angry? Porthos looked lost and confused. Aramis did not care; he went back to looking at his brother. He pulled the limp body closer, wrapping his arms around the dead man’s shoulders. Feeling Henri’s warmth._ _

__He was vaguely aware of Porthos getting to his feet and retreating from the room. Aramis did not care about Porthos._ _

__Aramis stayed on the floor, cradling his dead brother, not really looking at anything, not really thinking about anything. Just looking into the distance, unfocused._ _

__They were going to sit and talk. They were going to clear the air. It would have been awkward and odd. Aramis would have remained vigilant and wary, but he had made sure he had a weapon close by, he would have been safe. He was prepared to give Henri the benefit of the doubt, he had seen the change in his brother. Seen that his brother had, perhaps, never really considered what their father was like._ _

__And now they would not have that conversation, not reconcile. Porthos had barged in and ended it. Ended any chance of a reconciliation by killing Henri._ _

__How could Porthos have been so reckless? Why had he not stopped and considered what he was doing?_ _

__‘Aramis…’_ _

__He looked up, blinking a couple of times. Athos was crouched in front of him, another couple of men stood in the shadows of the landing beyond the open door. Aramis had not noticed them arrive, he had been so lost in his own thoughts and grief that he had let his guard down completely._ _

__Athos had his hand on Aramis' arm, ‘you need to let us take him now.’_ _

__Numbly Aramis nodded, he had no idea how long he had been sat on the floor holding his brother. Henri was heavy in his arms. It took Aramis a few seconds to loosen his grip on his brother, he had become stiff sitting on the floor. Athos helped Aramis to stand, the effort of stretching stiff limbs causing Aramis’ breath to hitch several times._ _

__Simon and Christophe stepped into the room as Athos moved to help Aramis get up. The two Musketeers gently eased Henri’s body to lie straight, before unfolding a blanket and covering him._ _

__Aramis looked down at the body under the blanket for a few seconds before allowing Athos to lead him to his bedroom. He was aware of movement in the room behind him as the Musketeers removed the body of his brother._ _

__Athos pushed Aramis to sit on the edge of the bed. The bed he shared with Porthos. Porthos who had killed his brother._ _

__He sat staring at the blood on his hands. Athos crouched in front of him holding a damp cloth. He cleaned the blood away, wiping away the last traces of Henri, the last link Aramis had with his brother._ _

__‘Porthos wants to talk to you-’_ _

__‘No.’_ _

__‘He said he’d wait until you’re over the shock-’_ _

__‘No.’_ _

__‘He’ll stay at the garrison tonight, to give you some space.’_ _

__Aramis looked at Athos for several seconds before going back to looking at his hands._ _

__‘You should get some rest,’ said Athos. ‘I’ll sort out for some food to be brought here. I’ll be just out there if you need me. I’m not going to leave you tonight.’_ _

__Aramis did not respond. He could not respond. There was nothing to say._ _

__His brother was dead._ _

__Porthos had killed his brother._ _

__MMMM_ _

___The following morning… ____ _

____Athos watched Porthos' face as he recounted the conversation from the previous evening between himself and Aramis. Athos had slowly got Aramis to tell him what had happened, his friend's description was at odds with what Porthos had said happened._ _ _ _

____‘It didn’t look like that to me,’ said Porthos slowly. ‘When I stepped into the room, Aramis was trying to push Henri off him. Henri had grabbed him…’_ _ _ _

____‘Aramis says that he agitated one of his injuries, it caused him to gasp in pain, Henri stepped forward and steadied him to stop him falling to the floor…’_ _ _ _

____Porthos looked away, Athos could see him replaying the events in his mind. His friend did not look convinced._ _ _ _

____They were sitting in the garrison yard. There were a few cadets dotted around, Serge had found them jobs to do around the garrison. Somehow, they all knew to keep away from the two Musketeers who were sitting in the shade of the stairs. Athos had attended muster before updating Treville on Aramis’ condition. Treville had given him a couple of hours to talk to Porthos who was, understandably, worried and a little shocked at what had happened._ _ _ _

____No charges would be brought because the evidence did lead to Henri making another attack on Aramis. Porthos’ actions had, officially, been in defence of Aramis. But the fact remained that Porthos had killed Aramis’ half-brother and Aramis was convinced that Porthos had acted in haste. Neither Athos nor Treville wanted to take sides. They only had the word of each man. Porthos was convinced he had been saving Aramis. Aramis was saying that he did not need saving._ _ _ _

____‘I need to talk to him-’_ _ _ _

____‘I told you, Porthos, he doesn’t want to talk to you. I asked him again this morning, he was adamant he will not speak to you.’_ _ _ _

____‘But he’ll have to speak to me eventually… we work together… we live together.’_ _ _ _

____‘Just give him some time,’ said Athos. ‘He is still shocked. Henri was prepared to sit and talk to him - at least that is what Aramis says - they were going to clear the air between them. Your arrival and reaction were…’ Athos paused trying to find a suitable word, ‘unfortunate.’_ _ _ _

____‘I killed his brother,’ said Porthos. ‘Pretty bloody unfortunate.’_ _ _ _

____‘You did what you thought was right,’ said Athos. ‘To you, it looked as though Henri was attacking your friend. You knew Aramis was in no state to properly defend himself, so you did it for him.’_ _ _ _

____Porthos did not look convinced. Athos was not sure how to placate his friend._ _ _ _

____‘Once he’s calmed down a bit he will listen to reason. He will see how it must have looked from your angle. He will understand. But you must give him time.’_ _ _ _

____Porthos shook his head. Without another word he got to his feet and stalked off towards the sleeping quarters. Athos watched him go, he knew there was no point trying to reason with his friend. Both Porthos and Aramis would need time to recover from what had happened. One thing that particularly worried Athos was the effect the death would have on their little group. Would Aramis and Porthos be able to resume their friendship, let alone what else was developing between them? Athos had watched the pair grow closer in the time he had known them. He had seen how Porthos had helped Aramis to overcome horrific events. Porthos had risked his own life to save Aramis. Would that count in his favour? Would Aramis be capable of seeing through his grief and confusion to see Porthos as he had seen him before Henri’s death? Or would Aramis only see Porthos as the man who killed his brother?_ _ _ _

____MMMM_ _ _ _

____Despite Athos suggesting that he should leave Aramis until he was ready to talk, Porthos walked into their rooms. He knew Aramis would know he was there; he had not been quiet in his approach. He did not want to startle his friend, even though he knew Aramis was not easily startled._ _ _ _

____He looked around the sitting room, the blood had been cleaned from the wooden floor, although a tell-tale darkened patch would remain for some time. Everything else was as they always had it. If he had not been involved in what had happened the previous day, he would not have known a man had died there._ _ _ _

____A shadow crossed the open door leading into their room. Aramis was walking back and forth in the room. Porthos stopped by the doorway. Aramis glanced at him as he folded a dark shirt neatly, making sure there would be no creases in the sleeves. Aramis did not say anything, he did not acknowledge him in any way. Porthos stepped further into the room. Aramis turned his back on him slightly. Porthos wondered if Aramis hoped he would just leave._ _ _ _

____‘Aramis…’_ _ _ _

____A stony silence was Aramis’ only response. He walked to the open chest that he kept his few belongings in. He crouched by it and reached in, collecting a couple of books, he looked at them both before putting one back in the chest. Aramis returned to the bed and laid the book by the neatly folded shirt._ _ _ _

____‘We need to talk-’_ _ _ _

____‘That’s what Henri wanted to do.’_ _ _ _

____Porthos sighed, ‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’_ _ _ _

____‘Then don’t say anything.’_ _ _ _

____Aramis returned to the chest a second time and scooped up a bag, he opened the bag and put in on the bed. Porthos looked at the things Aramis had arranged on the bed. A couple of shirts, a pair of breeches, some underclothes, a weapons belt, and a couple of books. Aramis began to carefully put them all into the black leather bag he had picked up._ _ _ _

____‘What are you doing?’_ _ _ _

____‘What does it look like? I’m going back to the garrison. My old room is still free. I’ll go back there. I’ll arrange for the rest of my things to be picked up. There are a couple of the cadets that could do with a few coins that won’t mind collecting the chest.’_ _ _ _

____Porthos stared at his friend. He could not comprehend what was happening. Aramis was going. Walking away from him. Admittedly he was not walking very far, but it was far enough._ _ _ _

____‘You need to see it from my perspective, Aramis. He was hurting you; you were in pain. I thought he was trying to kill you again. I thought I might already have been too late.’_ _ _ _

____Aramis finally straightened up, Porthos could tell he had to make an effort to hide a wince of pain._ _ _ _

____‘He was not hurting me. He was not trying to kill me. You were not too late.’_ _ _ _

____‘That’s not what it looked like.’_ _ _ _

____‘When he first showed up, I was wary. He was a bit aggressive initially. But then he listened to what I had to say. I reminded him of what our father had done. How he had treated me. And to a lesser extent him. Henri took the time to consider what had happened. He took the time to work things through in his head… A shame you didn’t. You just shot him. Without even making sure… you just…’_ _ _ _

____Aramis trailed off, glaring at Porthos. He was breathing quickly, Porthos could see the pain in his eyes. See the tears that he wanted to shed. But Aramis was refusing to break down in front of him. Just days before it would have been different. They had grown to be open and honest with each other. They trusted each other to catch them if they fell._ _ _ _

____‘What if he was just trying to gain your confidence, allow your guard to drop again. What if he was biding his time?’_ _ _ _

____‘He wasn’t,’ replied Aramis._ _ _ _

____He turned back to his packing, slipping the book into the bag on top of the clothing and the spare weapons belt. Aramis pulled the bag closed, tied off the drawstring and swung it over his shoulder. He turned to Porthos and looked at him. It took Porthos a couple of seconds to realise he was still standing in the doorway of their room, blocking the way. He stepped aside. Without another word, Aramis walked past him. Porthos did not try to stop his friend. He heard Aramis close the door behind him, leaving Porthos alone in their rooms._ _ _ _

____He looked at the bed. The two beds pushed together that they shared. He thought about the nights they had lain together, their bodies entwined, as if they were meant to be together._ _ _ _

____But that was all gone. Because he had saved Aramis’ life. Porthos could not stop the thought that he had done the right thing. Henri had been trying to kill Aramis. He had already made one attempt. Why would he change his mind so easily? Porthos could not believe that Aramis had talked the man around in such a short length of time._ _ _ _

____Or had he. Had Henri been changed by Aramis’ words. Had Porthos reacted in haste._ _ _ _

____Porthos had just watched the man he loved walk away because he had acted too quickly. Because he had not stopped to think._ _ _ _

____Porthos did not know what to do._ _ _ _


	4. Chapter 4

Athos watched Aramis talking to the two cadets. Hubert was pointing at various parts of the musket as Aramis spoke. Athos guessed Aramis was quizzing the young man about the various parts of the weapon. Marin was watching and listening closely to all that Aramis had to say. The cadets were helping Aramis to clean and maintain the weapons. The Musketeer was sitting at a table that had been set up outside the armoury and the cadets were ferrying the guns back and forth. 

Aramis had stiffly walked to the table a few hours before and was making an effort to move about every half an hour or so. Hubert had helped him up at one point earning a good-natured slap from Aramis. The three men were absorbed in their work, Athos did not think Aramis was aware he was being watched.

Porthos was standing with Treville on the other side of the yard. The Captain was talking calmly to Porthos who was trying not to show how upset and angry he was. Athos knew what Treville was saying and he sympathised with Porthos. Treville gave Porthos a conciliatory slap on the shoulder before moving off to talk to a small group of men that had returned from the Palace. Porthos remained where he was, watching Aramis work. 

It was another couple of minutes before Porthos managed to look away from his friend and walk across the yard to where Athos was sitting at the table, going through some letters of introduction for the Captain.

‘I’m sorry, Porthos,’ he said. 

‘Is it really what Aramis wants?’

Athos nodded. 

Aramis had spoken to Treville the previous day, he had asked to be put on different duties to Porthos, at least for a few days, but probably permanently. Treville wanted Aramis and Porthos to talk but Aramis would not entertain the idea. The Captain had told Athos afterwards that he would allow the request for a while, but he could not predict what might occur that could force the two to work together. He could not allow the issues they had to affect the running of the garrison. Athos knew that Aramis was loyal enough that if he had to work with Porthos he would, but it would be an awkward uncomfortable time for both men, he was sure. 

‘He’s not spoken to me since he came back,’ said Porthos as he sat heavily on the bench next to Athos. ‘I tried to talk to him, but he walked away, didn’t even acknowledge me.’

Porthos picked at a nail for a few seconds before looking back at his friend working with the cadets. 

‘Why won’t he understand that I thought he was being attacked. If I had known I wouldn’t have shot Henri. But it really looked like a life or death situation at that moment…’

Athos sighed, he wished there was something he could say to his friend to make all that had happened make sense. 

‘He may yet come around, or at least understand what you saw-’

‘What I think I saw… Was I wrong to shoot Henri?’

‘Do not come to me for absolution. I cannot tell you if it was right or wrong. Only you and Aramis know what happened in that room.’

‘You believe me though… don’t you?’

Porthos had twisted to look at Athos, his expression a mixture of confusion and expectation.

Athos thought for a second, ‘I believe your view of the situation made you think you had no choice.’

Porthos turned away, looking at his hands again, picking at the same nail. 

‘I miss him.’

‘I know.’

Athos had found Porthos to be quite downcast since Aramis had moved back into the garrison. Aramis was keeping himself busy, even when he was not on duty. He was helping the newer cadets and taking some of the more repetitive paperwork off Treville. It was as though Aramis was doing all he could to keep himself from having to think about what had happened. Athos supposed that Aramis was grieving not only the loss of his half-brother but also of the close friendship he had built with Porthos over the months. 

‘I’m worried about him,’ said Porthos without looking up.

‘We are keeping an out for him. When he leaves the garrison, he is not alone. He may not like it but until he can wield a sword properly again, he is not a fully fit Musketeer.’

‘That’s not what I mean.’

Athos looked at Porthos who was watching Aramis again, his expression now one of concern. After a few seconds, Porthos turned to look at him. 

‘Please don’t tell him I said this.’

Athos furrowed his brow, ‘whatever you have to say will stay between us.’

His curiosity was aroused, he wondered what had made Porthos so worried for his friend.

‘His… his inclination… towards men,’ started Porthos. ‘It’s a bit more than that. Or at least it was.’

Athos had no idea where Porthos was going with his quietly spoken words.

‘I think it’s a hang-up from when he was a child and was… abused where he lived with his mother-’

‘In the brothel?’ asked Athos. ‘I know he was a victim of abuse there. It affected him quite badly?’

Porthos nodded, ‘he was confused about sex. Thinking that what he did was a sin… well in the eyes of the law it is. But he wanted… no… needed to sate his urges.’

Athos felt a little awkward listening to what Porthos was saying but allowed his friend to continue.

‘Since he’s been with me, his… needs… have gone. He’s content, happy. Was happy,’ Porthos corrected himself. ‘We were… it was…’

Porthos was obviously struggling to put what he wanted to say into words. Athos managed a smile.

‘I think I understand what you are saying,’ he said. ‘Are you worried that he will go back to his old ways? That he will have these… urges again… without you at his side.’

Porthos nodded with a sigh, ‘I’m worried he won’t be as careful as before. I’m worried he’ll get himself caught.’

Athos looked at Porthos, making sure he had the soldier’s attention, ‘if that happens, it will not be your fault.’

Porthos looked away, unconvinced.

Athos hated what they had become. Hated how Aramis was reacting to it all and hated that their friend might put his life at risk because of it.

MMMM

_A few days later… ___

__Aramis eased himself off his horse, grateful the beast was one of the calmest in the stable. She nodded her head a couple of times as he stroked her neck and whispered a few ‘thank yous’ into her ear. Treville had asked him to take a message to the Palace, it had been a good chance to get back in the saddle for the first time since he had been injured. The bruises were fading, but he was still a little stiff. At least he knew he could ride if he needed to. Although he hoped he would not need to for the rest of the day. Aramis was quite comfortable walking again and hoped the Captain would allow him to join a patrol the following day._ _

__The ride through the streets in the early morning had been pleasant. Picking his way back through the busy streets had not been as pleasant. Aramis had been glad he had not encountered any issues, the thought of having to dismount in front of other people did not appeal. He did not like to advertise his injuries so the less law-abiding citizens of the city. He had also been pleased there was no one around when he had entered the garrison yard. The rest of the men knew he was still suffering but he did not like to attract pity, even if it was generally good-humoured._ _

__He became aware of someone behind him, he glanced over his shoulder as he started to undo the tack. Athos was watching him, slightly silhouetted by the light from the doorway, Aramis could not see his expression clearly._ _

__‘How are you feeling?’ asked his friend._ _

__‘Getting there, although I’m glad that was only a short journey. It was not a particularly elegant dismount at the Palace. I’m just glad no one was around.’_ _

__Athos managed a smile and a nod, he looked around, checking they were alone before taking a couple of steps forward. Aramis guessed what his friend was going to say. They had already had the conversation twice before._ _

__‘You need to talk to him. Or at least let him talk to you-’_ _

__‘I’ve told you, I’m not interested-’_ _

__‘Aramis,’ said Athos in the commanding tone he had when he wanted someone's full attention, ‘he has done a lot for you over the last few months, you at least owe him the chance to explain himself. Now that you have calmed down you can listen to him, take in what he has to say. I am not saying you have to agree with his version of events-’_ _

__‘Version of events?’ said Aramis with an annoyed huff._ _

__‘Yes,’ said Athos, reaching out to stop Aramis from pulling the saddle off the horse and walking away. ‘You both saw the same thing from different perspectives. He honestly believes he did the right thing at the time. He was sure Henri was attacking you again. Aramis, the man had tried to kill you. Surely you can see it from Porthos’ perspective.’_ _

__Aramis shook his head and continued to deal with his horse which had snorted and pawed at the ground a couple of times picking up on the tension between the two Musketeers. Athos stepped back to allow Aramis to get passed with the saddle, the bridle hanging over his shoulder._ _

__As Aramis diligently put the tack away, he tried to keep his breathing steady. He knew Athos was still behind him, waiting for him to respond. Aramis did feel a little guilty for leaving Porthos and ending their relationship. The man had saved his life a few months before, Porthos had taken a punishment that should have been for him._ _

__But he had done more than that, Porthos had helped him to understand who he was, made him accept that what he was, was not a sin._ _

__Aramis drew out the moment knowing he would have to turn around to look at Athos, he ran his hand over the saddle, tracing the ridges and studs with his fingers._ _

__‘He is getting maudlin,’ said Athos his patients ended. ‘It is going to affect his work.’_ _

__Aramis finally turned around, ‘that’s not my problem. If he had not rushed in… if he had paused… just for a few seconds… that’s all he needed to do. Athos, he killed Henri. I know none of us has much of a family outside the regiment… but I felt like I’d been getting through to Henri… we might have at least reached some sort of mutual ground.’_ _

__Aramis sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, the image of his dying brother coming to the forefront of his mind. He wondered again what the man had been trying to say in those final seconds, Aramis remembered Henri’s eyes darting about as if he was trying to look at something. Aramis opened his eyes, knowing the image would haunt him for a long time._ _

__‘Porthos took any chance I had left of having anything resembling a family. I don’t know where my mother is if she’s even still alive. And I wouldn’t want to have any contact with my father now…’_ _

__Athos looked at him for a few seconds, ‘I wish you would reconsider. Even if it was just to clear the air with him-’_ _

__‘He killed my brother.’_ _

__The two Musketeers looked at each other for a few seconds. Athos eventually nodded and turned to go._ _

__‘Could you do something for me?’ asked Aramis, hoping he was not pushing his luck asking for a favour._ _

__Athos turned back._ _

__‘Henri, he’d bought a bottle of wine for us to share. I forgot to bring it with me when I left. It’s probably still on the table, it was with the empty bottles. I wanted to drink a toast to his memory.’_ _

__Athos nodded, ‘I’ll collect it for you this afternoon, I want to check on Porthos…’_ _

__Aramis looked away again, he knew Porthos was not spending his off-duty hours at the garrison. The atmosphere between them had become too awkward, the other men were starting to notice. Aramis was prepared to be professional about it, he just did not want to interact with Porthos any more than he had to. But Porthos had not accepted that their relationship was over and found it impossible to be at the garrison when he was not needed._ _

__Athos sighed and shook his head before walking off, his friend was obviously still annoyed at Aramis’ attitude. Aramis watched him go. He understood it was difficult for his friend. Athos was stuck between the two of them, but Aramis was prepared to have less contact with Athos if necessary. He would not force his friend to pick between them._ _

__Aramis picked up a brush and went back to his mare. The horse had calmed down again and was picking at the hay in front of her. Aramis started to brush her down, his mind not really on the job._ _

__He was upset that what he had with Porthos was gone. He had been hoping to move their relationship along. He had enjoyed their time together and was looking forward to more. The feeling of waking up each morning knowing that Porthos was with him had been amazing. He had never felt wanted before. They had still been learning what each of them liked and did not like. Aramis could not help a brief smile when he thought about the time he realised Porthos hated having his feet touched. His friend could not really come up with a good reason, it was just something he did not like._ _

__He thought about the way they could fall asleep, tangled together, it always amazed Aramis. Although they generally woke up more conventionally positioned with one or the other of them holding or touching the other. Just the slightest contact had been welcomed, a hand resting on his arm, or his arm draped over Porthos’ chest. And the feeling of his friend curling around him, holding him when he woke up from one of the vivid dreams he occasionally suffered, Aramis knew he would miss that feeling, the feeling of safety._ _

__But that was all gone, he could not get away from the fact that Porthos had killed his brother._ _

__Aramis wondered if he could ever have a similar relationship with anyone else._ _

__He wondered if the old need to be with a man would return. He wondered if he would need to find a man to fuck him again. He wondered if he would need to go to confession afterwards again._ _

__Would his life go back to the way it had been?_ _

__MMMM_ _

__‘Aramis, I just want to talk. Please just listen to what I have to say. Please try to see it from my point of view… I know it’s probably over between us, and I accept that what I did was… wrong… but really, Aramis it looked like he was trying to kill you… again…’_ _

__Porthos shook his head, he had rehearsed what he wanted to say hundreds of times. He just wished his friend would allow him to say the words to his face. They had not spoken since Aramis had packed his bag and walked away. He had seen Aramis at the garrison, stood next to him at muster, even tried to engage with him during a sparring session with some of the cadets. But the man had ignored him, not even acknowledged his existence._ _

__He turned away from the small mirror that hung in their sitting room, the mirror he had watched Aramis check his appearance in every morning for months. His friend would take a moment before leaving their rooms to smooth his moustache and check his hat was at just the right angle. Porthos smiled at the memory of Aramis completely brushing off the teasing every time he did it. Porthos would try to put him off, even snuck up behind him and grabbed him once for a messy kiss._ _

__But that was all gone._ _

__He looked around the small sitting room, stopping when he saw the unopened bottle of wine on the table. He knew Athos would not mind him having a cup of wine from their meagre stock._ _

__Porthos pulled out the chair and sat down, grabbing a cup from the shelf above the table as he did so. He eased the stopper out of the bottle and tipped it towards the cup, watching the red liquid pour into the cup._ _

__They had spent a few evenings sitting around the table together, Porthos had tried to teach his friends how to cheat at cards and how to read people and work out if they had a good hand or not. Athos was good at reading them and could always tell when Aramis had a good hand. Aramis had not been able to pick up the subtle art of deception causing both Athos and Porthos to decide that Aramis was too good to cheat. The teasing had earned them both a slap on the arm._ _

__Porthos took a swig of the wine, quickly realising it was probably better quality than the usual bottles they bought._ _

__He drank a silent toast to Aramis and their lost relationship._ _

__He knew that Aramis had been keen to move on with their more intimate relationship. They were both at ease with each other. Porthos had hoped that they could start working up to sex, he knew Aramis wanted to…_ _

__His worry for his friend was becoming all-consuming. He worried that Aramis would go back to his old self. That he would build up the facade again and see sex as a sin for which he had to repent, despite wanting to do it._ _

__Porthos took another drink of the wine. He looked at the bottle and wondered if he could do what Athos did and drink enough wine to make his worries disappear, even if it was only for a few hours._ _

__MMMM_ _

__Athos walked towards their rooms._ _

__The events of the last few days played through his head for what felt like the hundredth time. There was no answer. Only two men knew what had happened when Henri died. But neither of them could agree. He thought back to the moment Porthos had walked into the garrison, a stunned look on his face. It had taken a few minutes for Athos to get his friend to relate what had happened. Porthos was shocked at Aramis’ reaction to being saved. At the time none of them knew what had happened from Aramis’ point of view, initially, Athos had worried that Aramis had perhaps taken another knock to the head. When he had reached their rooms that fateful day and found his friend cradling his dead half-brother Athos had begun to put the pieces together._ _

__Now, several days later, their lives were all very different. Aramis had moved back into his old room at the garrison and Porthos was slipping into a depression that was most unlike the usually jovial man. Athos knew that he was a quiet contemplative man, Aramis and Porthos had always been content to let him be, to leave him to his thoughts. But Porthos and Aramis were both outgoing, gregarious men. To see Porthos unable to muster the enthusiasm for a meal at the local tavern was something that Athos was struggling to deal with._ _

__He had always thought of Aramis as the one of the pair that struggled the most to deal with his demons. Athos knew enough of Aramis’ past to know that he had a few demons to fight. But Porthos, despite his upbringing, was always the rock that Aramis could lean on if he needed to. Porthos was good for Aramis. Aramis rarely had any issues since they had started their relationship. Athos had only known the pair for a few months but even in that short time, he had seen Aramis go from pretending he was fine to actually being fine. There was no longer the impenetrable facade hiding his past. Aramis had learned to deal with his past and moved on. Porthos had been responsible for that and had helped their friend to find his true self._ _

__And now, poor Porthos had done something to ruin all the hard work. Weather Porthos was right or wrong to have killed Henri without hesitation was something Athos doubted they would ever know. But the ramifications of the decision were far-reaching. All of their lives had changed because of it._ _

__He nodded a greeting to the elderly landlord who was in his customary place, sitting by the steps leading to the front door. The man rarely spoke, just puffed on his pipe and watched the world go by._ _

__Athos climbed the stairs and pushed the door to their rooms open. The shutters were still across the window leaving only streaks of sunlight dotted about the room. He shook his head and opened the shutter before turning to Porthos who was sitting, slightly slumped, at the table._ _

__His melancholy friend was now the one putting on a facade. Outwardly, when he was at the garrison or anywhere that was not their rooms Porthos acted with his usual diligence. He performed his duties and trained the cadets with his usual care. But off duty Porthos seemed incapable of anything apart from sitting in their rooms. Athos had taken to having food delivered and sitting with his friend until he had at least eaten something. Athos wondered if he should have told Aramis just how bad Porthos had become, rather than just implying he was upset._ _

__Porthos screwed his eyes shut as the light flooded into the room, he picked up the cup of wine he had in front of him and drained the contents, before reaching out for the bottle and pouring another cup._ _

__Athos realised the bottle that Porthos was drinking from was the one that Aramis had asked for. The one that his half-brother had bought for him. Poor Porthos had inadvertently made the situation worse. Athos decided he would not tell Aramis it was Porthos who had opened the bottle, he would say that he must have opened it himself and not realised. Porthos’ hand was shaking as he poured the wine and put the bottle down with a clunk._ _

__‘You know you are on duty later?’ asked Athos._ _

__‘I’ll be sober by then,’ said Porthos._ _

__Athos could detect a slight slur in his friend's voice, he wondered how much Porthos had drunk. He reached out to take the bottle expecting to find it empty, he was surprised at the weight._ _

__‘Is this your second bottle? You will not be sober in time for muster,’ stated Athos unable to hide his annoyance at Porthos._ _

__His friend needed to snap out of his depression. He would put himself in danger of dereliction of duty if he was not fit for work due to his own folly._ _

__‘It’s my second cup,’ said Porthos before closing his eyes for a few seconds. ‘I’ll be fine.’_ _

__The more Athos looked at his friend the more he knew Porthos would not be fine. He reached out and took the full cup away from him. Porthos had clearly had more than one cup of wine, the man was acting as though he had nearly drunk a tavern dry. The last time Athos had seen Porthos so affected by wine was after a particularly taxing, but rewarding, assignment a few weeks before. All three of them had been given a couple of days leave and celebrated a little too well._ _

__Porthos had a sheen of sweat across his face, his shirt was clinging to him as though he had been putting the cadets through their paces on a hot day._ _

__Athos looked at the bottle in his hands, he knew it was a good wine, but no stronger than they were used to. It was true that most taverns watered the wine down to make it go further but they were used to drinking wine and not being badly affected._ _

__He looked back at Porthos who was obviously in some discomfort. The Musketeer was sitting awkwardly, one arm wrapped around his stomach, Porthos probably did not even realise he was sitting in such a way. As Athos watched, Porthos rubbed at his temple before resting his chin on his hand, his eyes drifting shut._ _

__A horrible thought crossed Athos’ mind. He sniffed at the neck of the bottle, something about the aroma did not fit._ _

__Athos looked at Porthos again, watching as his friend pushed the chair away from the table and heaved himself up to stand. The action was difficult for him, Porthos stood for a few seconds looking down taking short quick breaths. He turned towards the bedroom, keeping one hand on the table steadying himself for as long as possible. As he stepped away from the table Porthos wavered for a second before crashing to the floor._ _


	5. Chapter 5

Athos put the bottle back on the table and crouched beside Porthos who had managed to push himself onto his side. 

‘Porthos,’ said Athos as calmly and clearly as he could. ‘How much have you drunk?’

Porthos managed to look up at him, he was still breathing quickly, the sweat was starting to form beads on his face. 

‘I… told you,’ he said. ‘One cup…’

Athos nodded, ‘alright, let’s get you to bed.’

He hauled his friend to his feet, Porthos was very unsteady, he did not seem to know what he was doing. Athos manhandled Porthos through to his room and pushed him onto his bed.

‘Stay there,’ said Athos, ‘I’m going to get some help.’

Athos knew he could not deal with his friend on his own. He disliked leaving Porthos in his current state but knew he had no choice. He was not sure if Porthos had heard him or not, the man had closed his eyes, his breathing still quick. Athos knew he could not wait; after a last look at Porthos, he rushed from the room. 

The landlord had disappeared from his rickety seat by the door, but Athos knew the old man would not have been able to offer any assistance. He had already decided the only person he trusted enough to help Porthos was Lemay, the court physician who had helped them all in the past and was forward-thinking enough not to instantly consider bleeding a patient to deal with their malady. 

Athos turned towards the Palace and hoped Lemay was not busy with a member of the Royal household. He knew the man would spare time for an ailing Musketeer. 

The streets were busy, but Athos walked purposefully, people moved out of his way when he walked purposefully. His uniform and his glare enough to see people skirt around him rather than him have to skirt around them. 

As he turned into the road before the Palace, he spotted Aramis talking to a couple of street boys. The boys were looking down guiltily. A tradesman was standing nearby, his hands on his hips and a livid expression on his face. Athos guessed the boys had been stealing and Aramis had caught them in the act. After a few choice words to the boys and a nod to the tradesmen, Aramis sent the thieves on their way. 

Aramis turned away, pausing when he spotted Athos.

‘Are you alright?’ asked Aramis with obvious concern. ‘Has something happened?’

‘It’s Porthos,’ said Athos.

‘What about Porthos?’ asked Aramis, concern in his eyes. 

‘He had some wine from the bottle your brother bought you.’

The concern was replaced with anger.

‘No, Aramis, you don’t understand,’ said Athos who had grabbed Aramis’ arm to stop him walking away. ‘It has made him ill. I think the wine was poisoned.’

Aramis stared at him for several seconds before looking in the direction of their rooms.

‘I am going to get Lemay,’ said Athos. ‘Porthos collapsed, he only had one cup of the wine.’

Aramis had paled considerably, ‘go. I’ll see what I can do for him.’

Athos did not get time to acknowledge his friend, Aramis had already broken into a run, towards their rooms. Towards Porthos. 

MMMM

Aramis took the stairs two at a time, his fading bruises forgotten. He pushed the door open and ran through to their room. Porthos was lying on the bed, drenched in sweat, unaware of his presence. 

‘Porthos…’

Aramis crouched in front of his friend; he could feel the heat coming off him without having to touch him. His mind raced to try to think about what he should do. He did not want to wait for Athos to return with the doctor. Porthos obviously had a fever and he could make a start at trying to bring it down. 

‘Porthos, I’m going to get your clothes off you, I need to get you cooled down,’ Aramis said as he started to pull Porthos’ shirt loose. 

Porthos mumbled something incomprehensible. Aramis did not like how amenable to being manipulated his friend was, he did nothing to resist Aramis. With little ceremony Aramis managed to pull Porthos’ shirt off him, he threw the drenched garment aside before pushing Porthos onto his back. Porthos simply flopped over, his eyes barely open. Aramis eased his friend's boots off before undoing his breeches.

Before, if one of them was undoing the others breeches it was generally part of some mutual fun they were indulging in. Aramis tried not to think about the times he had teased his friend, slowly undoing one button at a time drawing out the moment, sometimes long enough for Porthos to give in and tell him to hurry up. 

Easing the damp leather breeches off proved difficult, Aramis undid his friends' underclothes and pulled both off at the same time. Porthos barely reacted to being stripped completely by the man who had ended their relationship mere days before. 

‘I’m just going to get some water,’ said Aramis, although he was sure Porthos was not listening or comprehending anything at that moment. 

Aramis collected the bucket of water from the landing, the coolest spot in the house. He carried it through to Porthos who had not moved. As he passed the table with the wine still sitting on it Aramis wondered if what Athos had said was true. Had the wine been drugged or worse, poisoned. Aramis dampened a cloth and started to wipe the perspiration away from Porthos’ face and neck. He glanced back at the bottle, which he could see on the table in the other room through the open door. His thoughts kept going back to what Athos had said, that Porthos had only drunk one cup of wine. 

Aramis had been toying with the idea, in his mind, that Porthos had eaten something that had made him ill. He did not want to consider that the wine was the cause of Porthos’ illness. But it made sense. It made sense in ways Aramis did not want to consider. The ramifications of what had happened were something he would face later, Aramis decided. At that moment dealing with Porthos was his only job. 

He looked at his chest, which was still there waiting to be picked up the following morning. If Porthos had become ill the following day the chest would not have been there. And neither would the things Aramis needed to make up an emetic. 

‘Hold on Porthos,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m going to sort this out.’

He prayed he was in time, prayed he would be quick enough.

As he quickly made up the emetic, he had to force himself to concentrate and not let his mind wander to the bottle of wine. The bottle of wine that his brother had bought. His brother, who had wanted to talk and clear the air. The wine had been meant for him. His brother had meant to cause him harm.

Aramis took a breath and turned back to Porthos. He pulled the chamber pot from under the bed, it was dusty from lack of use, but Aramis knew that once he had got the emetic into Porthos he would need it. 

‘Porthos,’ he said after carefully putting the cup with the emetic in it on the side table. ‘I need you to sit up for me.’

Porthos managed a grunt but did not move. Aramis grabbed his friend’s legs and twisted them off the bed before pulling Porthos into a sitting position. Porthos would have slumped back down if Aramis had not kept hold of him.

‘I need you to drink this,’ said Aramis, as he held the cup to his friend's lips. 

Porthos took a sip before trying to move away. Aramis knew he would have to be firm with his friend. He grabbed Porthos around the jaw and forced him to drink. Porthos tried to push him off again, but his strength had left him. He spluttered a few times and coughed once, but Aramis knew he had drunk most of the liquid.

‘Well done,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

It did not take long for the emetic to do its work. Aramis steadied Porthos as he threw up. Aramis knew there was little more he could do, other than to make his friend comfortable and try to get his temperature down. 

Once it was obvious Porthos had nothing left in him to bring up, Aramis helped him to lie down again. His friend was still lethargic and easily manipulated. Aramis went back to covering him in cooled cloths. 

He heard footsteps on the stairs.

‘Aramis?’

‘In here,’ he called over his shoulder as he re-soaked one of the cloths he had been using to cover his friend.

‘How is he?’ asked Lemay as he walked into the room, glancing at the contents of the chamber pot.

‘I gave him an emetic,’ Aramis reported, ‘his temperature is too high, he was confused… he’s passed out now.’

Lemay lay his hand on Aramis’ shoulder and squeezed, ‘you’ve done what you can. Let me have a look at him.’

Aramis gave way to the doctor; he stepped out of the room and took a couple of deep breaths. Athos appeared beside him after disposing of the contents of the pot.

‘Once the doctor is finished I will return to the garrison and tell Treville. I guess you will want to stay with him?’

Aramis nodded, he looked at the bottle on the table for a few seconds before closing his eyes. 

‘Is that the bottle he drank from?’ asked Lemay from the doorway. ‘I’ve been working on a way to test if poisons have been added to liquids. 

Aramis watched absentmindedly as the doctor poured a little of the wine into a small dish and did something with another liquid. Aramis knew Porthos had been poisoned, he did not need science to tell him. 

Aramis knew Henri had meant to poison him. 

Aramis had been taken in by the man. Henri had pretended to want to talk. Henri had been keen to buy wine. The more Aramis thought about it the more it made sense. His brother had added the poison to the wine after he had bought it intending for Aramis to drink it straight away. He had still been recovering from the attack at the time, he would not have been able to get himself any help, he would have collapsed and died alone. At least that was what Henri had intended. 

But Porthos had returned. Porthos had returned in time. 

Aramis still thought his friend had acted hastily in shooting Henri, but perhaps with his unclouded judgement Porthos had acted correctly. Porthos knew not to trust Henri, when Aramis, still suffering from the attack, had probably not been thinking clearly.

And now Porthos had drunk the wine that was meant for him.

‘Yes,’ said Lemay, ‘there are traces of poison there, I can’t tell you what, but it is there.’

‘What can we do?’ asked Athos with a glance back into the bedroom.

Lemay shook his head, ‘I don’t think there is any more that can be done. Aramis, you did the right thing administering that emetic. We can only hope it was given soon enough. All we can do is wait. The next few hours will be crucial.’

Aramis looked at Athos, ‘I’ll stay with him,’ he said. 

‘Keep doing what you’re doing, try to get that temperature down and just keep him comfortable,’ said Lemay.

Aramis nodded, trying not to think what the next few hours would bring. Trying not to consider that he might lose the man he loved, without being able to tell him how sorry he was for the way he had treated him. 

MMMM

He had been vaguely aware of Athos and the doctor leaving quietly. Aramis had returned to Porthos' side after taking off his weapons belts and doublet and collecting more cold water. He pulled up a chair and sat by the bed. Porthos was still sleeping, his shallow breaths the only movement he made. Aramis removed the dried cloth from Porthos’ body and dampened it before gently laying it over him again. 

As he used a second cloth to dampen his friend’s face, neck and arms he tried not to dwell on what had happened. But it was impossible. 

The more he replayed the events over in his mind the more he doubted his own view of them. Had Henri really been helping him when he inadvertently knocked his bruised leg on the table? Perhaps the man was really about to take advantage of his weakness. Aramis shook his head. He did not know. His recollection of the event had gone around and around in his head so many times that he was starting to muddle the order. 

One thing he did know for sure was that Henri had meant to do him harm. Either when Aramis had hurt himself or by using the poisoned wine. Henri had wanted to know when Porthos and Athos would return. Aramis had indicated that it would be some time, which might have given Henri the idea that he could dispose of his half-brother without having to physically fight him. Perhaps Henri had guessed that Aramis would arm himself and chose to take a more underhand approach. 

Porthos moved slightly, he was lying on his side, one hand reaching forward a little, his fingers grasping for something only his fevered mind could see. Aramis slipped his hand into Porthos’ pleased to feel his friend close his fingers, keeping hold of him. 

How many times had they lain together, fingers touching, laced together as if they were never meant to be apart? 

He had walked away from his friend. Not really given him the chance to talk. He had been ignoring Porthos, turning his back on him. After all that Porthos had done for him. Porthos, who had taken great risks to help him. Aramis felt ashamed. 

He knew that in the moment, at the time of Henri’s death, he had not been thinking straight. But afterwards, he should have at least taken the time to speak to his friend. He should have given him a chance to give his side of events. Aramis had denied Porthos that chance.

And now Porthos might die. Aramis was hopeful but the possibility could not be dismissed. 

Whatever had caused his friend to reach out, a dream or some unconscious reaction to something had passed, Porthos’ hand relaxed again. Aramis slipped his hand out and went back to his task of keeping the ill man cool. He dampened the cloth that was covering him again and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. The process was repeated again and again. But Aramis was not going to stop until his friend improved. 

As the light started to fade outside Aramis forced himself to get up and stretch, he walked through to the sitting room. After lighting a few candles he looked at the offending bottle of wine which was still on the table. He looked at it for a few seconds before picking it up and walking to the window. After a brief look out he tipped the contents away. He left the bottle outside the door on the landing before wiping a few drops of the red liquid from his hands on a cloth. He remembered Athos wiping Henri’s blood from his hands. He had been struggling to comprehend what Porthos had done to his half-brother at that moment. Now he was struggling to comprehend what his half-brother had done to Porthos. 

He returned to Porthos’ side. The ill man had not moved but he was not as feverish. Aramis decided he did not need to keep changing the cooling cloths anymore. He covered Porthos with a thin blanket and retook his seat. 

Aramis was not sure if Porthos would want him by his side when he woke. But until Athos returned Aramis was not going to leave his friend. He wondered if Porthos would accept his apology when he recovered, he did not deserve to be forgiven. 

He reached out and took Porthos’ hand again.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly.

The sleeping man did not react. 

‘I was wrong. I should have let you talk to me. You wanted to and I just walked away. I was horrible…’

Aramis sighed.

‘You’ve done so much for me. You’ve opened my eyes. You’ve made me understand who I really am… And I walked away from you.’

He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

‘Please don’t die, Porthos. Please give me the chance to apologise. I know that’s selfish of me… I love you and don’t want you to leave me…’

‘I love you.’

Aramis had been looking at the floor, he looked up at Porthos who was looking back at him. His words had been barely more than a whisper but in the quiet room, Aramis had heard each one. 

‘I know,’ said Aramis. ‘You told me weeks ago.’

Porthos had said the words during a brief argument the pair had when Porthos was recovering from being flogged. 

Porthos managed a slight smile, ‘I’d not meant to say it then. I thought I’d scare you off.’

Aramis sniffed again, slightly embarrassed that he was letting his emotions bubble to the surface.

‘You didn’t scare me off,’ said Aramis. ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’

Aramis watched Porthos close his eyes for a few seconds, wondering if he had fallen asleep again. He was relieved when his friend opened his eyes again, Porthos was focused, although obviously still uncomfortable.

‘But are you happy for me to be here?’ asked Aramis. ‘I was horrible to you…’

Porthos smiled. 

‘You were,’ he said. ‘But it wasn’t a simple situation…’

With a shaky hand, Porthos reached up to Aramis and wiped away a tear he had not realised he had shed. 

‘I ain’t dying on you,’ he said. ‘I was aware enough when you were forcing that foul stuff into me to know how you felt. I’m not leaving you… you’re stuck with me.’

Aramis wanted to say something else but was not sure if it was the right moment. Porthos went back to clutching his hand.

‘And I accept that I probably acted a bit quick when I shot Henri, so you don’t need to worry about that becoming a thing between us.’

‘Can you read minds?’

‘Only when you make it obvious,’ Porthos said with a slight slur to the words. 

‘You should rest. I’m not going anywhere,’ said Aramis. 

‘Make sure you don’t.’

Aramis smiled, for the first time in what felt like forever, as his friend closed his eyes again. He waited for Porthos’ breathing to settle again before leaning in for a chaste kiss on Porthos’ forehead. Porthos smiled, clutching his hand tighter around Aramis’.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> I have started work on the next part.


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